26. 스물여섯 ‘sumulyeoseot’
I haven’t had such a fun Christmas in a while, and I’m so glad I took the step to have my first dinner party.
Today I have an appointment with Ms Julie’s colleague, and the fact that I’ve dropped almost everything I held in my hands until now isn’t enough to express how nervous I am.
I watch the clock on the left wall of my bakery, counting the hours until 9 p.m. It’s a late appointment, but it was the best she could do, and I’m grateful for it.
There’s still eleven hours left.
I’ve cleaned the tables twice, even though most of them haven’t been used. I’m grasping for anything that will take my mind out of thinking about tonight.
I know I want to know. I need to know what was so awful that my mind had to shut down, but I’m so scared because of that same reason. My mind had to shut down to protect me.
I told Elisa this morning where I was going in case I didn’t catch her at home before I left for the appointment, but deep down I wish I wasn’t going alone.
Thankfully for me, a flood of customers entertain me for the next two hours.
At lunch hour, I walk by the post office. If I had a letter, at least I would have something else to think about, even if just for a little. And as always, Daldust reads my mind.
I grab the letter and walk back to Sweet Delilah to read it as I eat leftovers from Christmas dinner. We spent the entire weekend eating leftovers and they’re finally gone.
“Dear Delilah,
Wow, the student just became the master. I think you need to tell your therapist to be careful. You might take a run for her job, haha just kidding xD
But thank you, I will keep that in mind.
Why do you say that you know that better than anyone? What happened that made you learn you can’t force someone to fall in love with you?
Yours truly,
Daldust”
My hand searches under the counter for the pen and paper I usually leave under here, in case I need to write something. I always write these letters in my room because they feel so private, so I like to have a secluded place to gather my thoughts and not get interrupted.
But this shop is my place as well, and it’s still closed for another thirty minutes, so I think I can manage.
“Oh, so it’s my turn to spill the tea on my dating life, I see.
My parents are part of a very famous group of wealthy people here in London, so they’ve always had their eyes set on who I should date. I’d never had much opinion when it came to that. In high school I had a boyfriend because our families wanted us to be the “it” couple—so no one would even dare to get close to “royalty”—and even though we supported each other because no one wanted to be in that place, we didn’t like one another and rumours spread that he was cheating on me with someone else. I knew it to be true because he told me about it and how much he liked her. But once the rumours were out, everyone turned the girl’s life into hell for even daring to be mentioned with The Elite’s children. She had to move out of the city. He was devastated and we…we had to pretend everything was okay until high school ended.
In university, I moved out of my parents’ house so I was able to get a bit more freedom, but I was too shy around guys, I had never been around anyone but my “ex” (I put quotes because it never felt like a real relationship, it was all for pretend), not even with his friends I spoke because technically we were in a set of schools, one for girls, one for boys that were side by side, so the students only interacted outside of the gates. Inside I had my girlfriends, and outside I would hang out with him. Anyway, long story short, my flatmate convinced me to go to some parties, and I met someone, someone I later found out was also a son of The Elite, so my parents were thrilled, but this time he was someone I liked. He showed me a different side of life and even though we were different, I liked how he challenged me; I lost my shyness, and eventually, I became social. We dated for three years until one night…one night that changed the course of my life. I don’t remember much of what happened around that time. They say traumatic events can block our memory. But I remember how I felt. I remember not leaving my bed for a week and locking myself in for a month. The memories from that era might be blurry, but the hurt is crystal clear. I do know I broke up with him later. I’m not sure if it was because of what happened or because I found out he was involved with a close friend of mine at the time.
After five years, I’m finally open to date again, with baby steps, but I’m open to it.
Delilah”
I sigh. Every minute that goes by makes the events more real. I mean, who knows if I’m even going to remember? They say it helps, but it’s not one hundred percent foolproof.
What if I’m making a storm out of nothing? What if I end up not remembering?
Would it be that bad?
I think I could handle that, because at least I know I have tried. I know that if I don’t remember it’s because I shouldn’t.
I take a deep breath and put a smile on my face. That’s right, whatever is meant to be, it will be.
I walk outside the counter and turn the sign on the door to Open .
Most of the afternoon, I get myself out of my overthinker state, being able to focus on the day and my customers. I catch myself watching the hours from time to time, but nothing too alarming, until two hours remain. The moment I close the shop, I walk to deliver my response to Daldust’s letter and rush home.
My shower takes less time than the night my parents invited some of their friends to our house and their kids without my knowledge. The moment my mum placed her eyes on me, who’d just arrived from a volleyball practice, all sweaty and a messy hairdo, she rushed me upstairs to wash myself and come greet our guests. She excused my lateness, saying I lost track of time focused on my studies as the successful student I was.
I park my car in front of a tall, light building. The warm lights coming off the street lamps make it appear yellow in this dark sky.
I walk inside, where I’m greeted by a woman in her twenties reading a magazine behind the C-curved marble desk.
‘Hello,’ I say, clearing my throat.
Her eyes move up from the British Vogue and she straightens her back, placing the magazine by her side. ‘Evening. How can I be of service?’
‘I have an appointment to see Ms Lewis. It’s under the name Scott, Delilah Scott.’
‘Yes, I have it here. She’s expecting you. Just walk up the stairs to your right.’ The woman smiles, pointing to where I should go.
I leave the bright white entrance hall to a zone where my eyes don’t burn from the light. The currant-coloured carpet leads to a dark wooden door, contrasting from the walls.
‘Hello?’ I say, knocking on the door before opening a breach and peeking inside. ‘The girl at the front desk told me I could come in.’
‘You must be Delilah. Julie spoke wonders of you,’ the counsellor says with a smile. ‘I’m Diana.’
‘Nice to meet you.’ I sit on her mocha sofa. I find it peculiar how soft the material is and the way it moulds to you.
‘Julie also spoke about what you were coming here to do. She didn’t disclose details, but you are interested in trying to recover a memory from five years ago, if I’m not mistaken.’ The woman with long sleek black hair squints her eyes, trying to recall.
‘Yes, exactly. Ms Julie says that sometimes the mind can block traumatic events.’
‘And are you certain you want to unblock them?’
‘I am.’
‘Tell me what you remember about that day.’
‘The day I don’t actually remember, but I don’t think it was in the sunlight that something happened. I remember going to a party that night with my ex-boyfriend and…and…we…we left the party early. He was…taking me home, but we stopped in a dark and empty street. After that, I don’t remember anything else.’
Ms Diana nods and takes out a paper and pen. ‘I’m going to need your signature, to have it on paper that you allowed me to hypnotise you.’
‘Oh, okay.’ I grab the pen and lay down the paper on the table in front of me.
‘Tell me Delilah, are you familiar with hypnotherapy?’
‘Not first hand, but I’ve heard of it.’
‘In the document, you can also read the steps it takes and all you can expect from it. I’ll give you time to read it through.’ She grabs her notebook to divert her attention while I read.
Once I finish, I lay down the pen and reach the paper to her. Ms Lewis’s eyes lift from the notebook at my movement and she asks, ‘Are you ready to start?’
I nod, and she tells me to lie down and pay close attention to her finger.
I follow it as it moves around, creating a pattern, one my mind recognises after a few tries, making it easier to focus.
‘When I snap my fingers, you’ll be taken back to that night five years ago. Your boyfriend and you are driving through a dark street. You just want to get home, but he stops. Remember what happened as the engine died down.’
At the sound of her fingers snapping, my mind goes black.
‘Lilah?’ I hear as soon as Ms Diana snaps her fingers again. ‘Are you okay?’
I glance down at my knees tight on my chest as I wrap my arms around my legs, sitting on her sofa. I have no idea when I moved positions.
My throat is heavy as the only sound coming out of it are sobs that have lasted longer than I can recall.
I leave her office, taking only enough steps to not block the entrance, before I fall down to the floor. My breathing is too heavy and audible.
A river floods my face and my vision is too blurry to see the faces that pull me up. With the back of my hand, I clean up my eyes enough to recognise them .
‘What are you doing here?’ I say in between breaths, my voice breaking.
‘We’re here for you, Lilah. Do you really think you’d have to go through this alone?’ Elisa says.
‘Never again,’ Moon Hee adds.
‘You’re stuck with us,’ Elijah joins.
The three of them wrap their arms around me, allowing my tears to flood over my water line once more.
I feel a mix between pain from the past and hope for the future. I’ve been through this before. I remember everything now. But last time I had no one, and the pain twenty-two-year-old Delilah must have felt makes my heart ache.
They somehow get me to Lisa’s car and drive me home—I’m too much in my mind to notice the world around me moving. Elijah drives behind us in mine, so I don’t have to pick it up tomorrow.
I’m in the backseat, my head resting on Moon Hee’s lap while he gently strokes my hair. My head is still trying to make sense of all the information it hid for the past five years.
Memories flashing through my head. Too many to focus on each. So many, my mind takes a while to connect them all.
Moon Hee lowers himself enough to whisper in the shell of my ear, ‘You’re not alone anymore.’
A wave of tiredness weighs on my eyes, so I close them. Between the silence in the car, the tears still rolling down my face, diminishing as the faucet seems to run out, and Moonie’s caressing, my mind relaxes enough to drift off.